But You're So Cute!
by Moira Colleen
Summary: For the rotg kink prompt: "Most would not expect it, but it turns out that Jack likes cute things. He also likes fuzzy things. Mini-Bunny is both cute and fuzzy."


Bunny opened his eyes and then immediately slammed them shut. Even through his eyelids, the light was almost unbearable. He clapped one hand over his eyes and lay still, trying to remember where on earth he was. A light breeze stirred up the scent of something green and growing, mingled with the mustier smell of fertile soil. Had he fallen asleep in his fields? Easter had just come and gone, he recalled, and a gratifyingly successful one at that. There was no reason he should feel so exhausted.

_Drip. Drip._ The sparse drops of chilly water struck his forehead like tiny hammers. It didn't rain in the Warren. Bunny sat up with a groan and forced himself to look around. He was sitting in a large, crudely piled nest of drying grass surrounded by huge trees. Definitely not in the Warren, then. He stood up on shaky legs and moved to investigate the trees, hoping they would be the key to figuring out where he was. Not many trees grew as large as that. California redwoods, maybe?

As he approached the nearest tree, something crunched under his feet. What was an acorn doing here? The caps were scattered everywhere, and by the size of them, some of the acorns must have been as big as his fist…

Oh. Oh, no. Bunny scanned his own body in a panic. No bandolier, no bracers, no boomerangs, and a pudginess about his torso that confirmed his fears.

"Oh, bloody hell," Bunny groaned, "not again." He flopped back down on the makeshift nest and scoured his memory. What happened last night?

Gradually, the memories surfaced. There was a satyr, he recalled. A group of satyrs who wanted… what? Wanted him to come to some sort of party? For the life of him, Bunny couldn't remember what they were celebrating, but then, since when did a satyr need a reason to carouse? And he hadn't wanted anything to do with it, but then had Jack wanted to go and dragged Bunny along.

And where had Jack gone off to? The last time Bunny could remember seeing him, Jack had been dancing with a nymph while Bunny was trying to drink two sileni under the metaphorical table. Wincing at the ache in his stiff neck, Bunny looked around the glade, but saw no sign of Jack or any of the previous night's companions.

"Some friend you are, Frostbite," he grumbled, though in all honesty he was relieved that there was no one to see him in such an undignified state. With any luck, he could get back to the Warren and sleep off his hangover, and no one would be any the wiser.

Unfortunately, luck was not on Bunny's side today. He thumped the ground to open a tunnel, but for all the effect it had he might as well have been tap-dancing. To make matters worse, he could hear the sounds of sneakers on loam and childish laughter heading straight for the glade. The kids couldn't see him like this! Bunny made a mad dash for cover among the branches of a nearby shrub.

_Snap!_ Bunny felt the chill of metal under his feet a split second before the door slammed shut behind him. Oh. Bloody. Hell. He waited quietly while the children ran by, then twisted his body in the narrow wire cage to examine the mechanics of the trap. He scrunched as far back in the cage as he could, bracing against the wire, and tried to hook his forepaws—oh, he missed the dexterity of his larger form!—under the slanting gate to force it upward.

All he got for his efforts was a sore spine and a couple of broken claws. To top it off, straining against the spring-loaded gate had aggravated his headache. Could this situation get any worse?

A colder draft rustled through the budding leaves, making a sound like soft laughter.

Of course it could.

"Rise and shine, Bunny." Jack sounded far too chipper for all the drinking he had done last night. From behind the gate, Bunny could just see a pair of bare feet land beside the heap of grass. "Bunny? Man, I can't leave you alone for a second, can I?"

Bunny pressed his forehead against the chilly metal for a moment, steeling himself. "Over here, mate," he called.

Jack squatted down to peer through the branches. He stared for a moment. Then his lips pressed together and his shoulders shook with repressed laughter.

"Oh, rack off! Get me outta here!"

At the indignant look on Bunny's face, Jack lost what little control he had. He fell back on his rump, howling with merriment. Bunny fumed for a while, but Jack's laugh proved just too infectious, and before long Bunny joined in, in spite of his throbbing head.

"Oh, man." Jack wiped his eyes, finally calming down. "Do I ever want to know exactly how you got into this." As he spoke, he extracted the trap from the shrub. Bunny briefly lost his balance as Jack tilted the trap and pushed the gate open, and before he could right himself, he felt a cool hand grasp him around the waist and lift him out.

"I can walk out myself, mate," Bunny protested. "Oi! What're you doing?" The last was said through a face-full of fabric as instead of setting him down, Jack cuddled him close.

"Aw, c'mon, 'Roo," Jack said, wrapping one arm around Bunny and rubbing his ears with the other hand. "I didn't get the chance to do this last time, and you're so cute and fuzzy like this."

"Put me down! And quit stroking me! I'm not a pet!" Bunny squirmed, ire rising again.

"No can do, buddy," Jack said. "We've got a meeting today, remember? And it looks like the only way you're getting there is Air Frost. Unless you can use your tunnels this time around."

Jack paused in his petting to give Bunny a knowing look. Bunny glared back.

"All right, you win," Bunny admitted. "But remember who you're carrying, here. I'm not some cuddly woodland creature, you know. I'm a warrior."

"I know, I know," Jack agreed. He stood up and tucked Bunny inside his hoodie to shield him from the wind.

The moment they took to the air, Bunny began to tremble. He had never liked flying, and in this form he felt especially vulnerable. He clung to the fabric of Jack's undershirt, too unnerved to care if his claws bit through to Jack's skin.

The arm supporting Bunny shifted so that he was cradled in the crook of the elbow. Fingers touched his back through the thicker fabric of the hoodie, rubbing soothing circles along his back. In spite of himself, Bunny began to relax. Through the thin undershirt, Jack's skin felt pleasantly cool against Bunny's forehead, and his headache began to ease. The wind whistled outside, but Jack's hoodie kept the bite out of the air. This really wasn't such a bad way to fly, he thought just before he drifted off to sleep.

"Ah, Jack! Good to see you!" North boomed when Jack lit on the windowsill at the Workshop. Jack hastily waved him to silence. North raised an eyebrow questioningly as Tooth and Sandy joined them, also looking curiously at Jack.

Jack set his staff aside and reached under his hoodie. Carefully, he extracted a ball of lightly snoring grey fur and cradled it in his arms.

"Jack, what happened?" Tooth whispered.

Jack grinned. "Just a serious hangover, I think," he assured them quietly, stroking the sleeping Bunny. Several of Tooth's helpers sighed happily and buried their tiny hands in the soft fur. Bunny stretched out. North, Tooth, and Sandy looked at each other, then added their own caresses to their drowsing comrade, who yawned and nuzzled their hands in his sleep. He'd never stand for it if he were awake, but they just couldn't resist. After all, who knew how long it would be before they got another chance to pet the Easter Bunny?


End file.
